


the legal tender for a wish is equivalency

by timber (calculus)



Series: were i to give you my entire soul, it would still not be enough [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Backstory, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, M/M, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/timber
Summary: Of all the people Wonwoo expects to see at Jiyoon’s shop, Wen Junhui does not even come close to his imagination.





	the legal tender for a wish is equivalency

**Author's Note:**

> pre-face: this is not a complete story as is. it's actually a scene from a larger story that is still unfinished, but given my time constraints and the current deadline for 96z, this is what i've decided to post for it. the full story will follow in a few days, and this very scene will be found in its proper place in that story, so if you do see it twice, do not be alarmed!!! it's meant to be there!!!
> 
> also, this story relies heavily the reader have background knowledge of the japanese fantasy manga, [_**xxxHolic**_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/XxxHolic), so if you don't know what that is, please take a quick trip through the wikipedia page before reading the text below!
> 
> all else, please enjoy, and forgive me and my unedited mess of a story orz

Of all the people Wonwoo expects to see at Jiyoon’s shop, Wen Junhui does not even come close to his imagination. And yet: he sits across from Jiyoon’s regal sun chaise with familiarity, not sparing a single curious glance around him at the flower vases and antiques bracketing the room. Soonyoung walks into Wonwoo’s back, unaware of his sudden stop, and starts complaining, but it filters out of Wonwoo’s ears in favor the white buzz of panic.

“What the hell, Wonwoo, your back almost broke my nose! What have you been doing to your spine?”

“Ah, Soonyoungie? Wonwoo-goon?” Junhui asks, pleasantly surprised, like it’s an everyday occurence to see his college mates at a wish-granting shop.

“ _What the fuck?_ ”

Wonwoo’s emphatic greeting is overshadowed by Soonyoung’s even louder, “Junnie? Wh-what are you doing here?”

Junhui looks apologetic at Jiyoon, who just allows him with a wave of her hand and a fond chuckle, and he turns in his seat to face them fully. He looks just as out of place as the two of them, dressed in sweatpants and a tank that Wonwoo’s pretty sure he’s seen Soonyoung wiping his face with during practices, hair tousled like he’d only been in bed an hour or two ago. But, he sits relaxed, unbothered by their collective incredulity, and gestures for them to sit down on the seats next to him.

“What’s going on here, ssaem? Why is Junnie here?” Soonyoung asks again, directing the question to his teacher this time. Jiyoon holds a finger to her lips and nods at Junhui instead.

“Let the boy tell his story, brat. Stop asking unnecessary questions.”

Junhui smiles at her, sunny, and then at Soonyoung and Wonwoo. “I bet you guys weren’t expecting to see little ol’ me here, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s been well established, Junhui,” Wonwoo deadpans. “I mean, it’s not that impossible, I guess, when you think about it. This _is_ a wish-granting shop. That doesn’t exclude you from it, just because you’re our friend.”

Soonyoung throws him a dirty look. “Stop making yourself seem better than me. I’m allowed to be surprised that Junnie of all people are here! He’s like the happiest guy in the world—what does he need with wishes?”

“That’s… true. You always seemed content with yourself,” Wonwoo considers, furrowing his brows, watching Junhui. The boy nods, a secretive smile curling his lips now.

“Yeah, this store is usually for people who have like really unachievable wishes and shit,” Soonyoung pipes in, frowning now. He scowls at Jiyoon. “You better not be holding Junnie hostage here for something, ssaem, I swear to god.”

“Have a little faith, kiddo.” Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “Besides, I _do_ do other things besides granting wishes, in case you forgot. Most of my customers actually come for blessings, dumbass.”

Soonyoung puffs his cheeks out, ready to chew her off, but Junhui interrupts his tantrum with a well-timed laugh, slinging an easy arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, guys. I’m just here to buy a birthday gift. No big deal.”

The words sink in in silence before Wonwoo and Soonyoung start sputtering.

“Ah hah ha, so about that wish-granting thing! That was completely a joke, you know!”

“What do you mean a birthday gift? This isn’t a gift shop, you idiot!”

“We totally don’t do any kind of magic around here! This is strictly for exorcisms and cultural history!”

“Couldn’t you just go to fucking Coex or something for a present?”

“Nothing strange about this place at all!”

Junhui rolls his eyes and holds his hands up, yells, “Guys!”

Soonyoung’s mouth clicks shut up with an audible clack, Wonwoo not far behind with a scowl on his face. Jiyoon regards them all from her vantage point with a placid face, but Wonwoo’s been around her long enough to know that she’s dying of laughter internally with the way her mouth keeps twitching upward.

“Are you done?” Junhui asks wryly. Soonyoung makes a face.

“Fine, you dick. Tell us.”

“First, yes, I know this is a wish-granting shop. No need for all that floundering, Soonyoungie, that was cute, but I’m good.” Junhui cuts off Wonwoo’s opened mouth with a look. “Second, I wanted to get a really special gift for, uh, you know. Someone really special to me.”

A better person would leave Junhui and his sudden meek red cheeks alone, but Wonwoo doesn’t know any. “You mean for Jihoon, huh?”

Soonyoung clicks his tongue and cuffs him on the shoulder, but he gives Junhui an equally teasing smirk. “Hey, let the guy keep his secrets. Even if his crush is hideously obvious to everyone.” Junhui scowls at them both, but the effect is lost with his bright red face. “On the bright side, Jihoonie’s probably one of the most oblivious guys to feelings that extend past a healthy appreciation for musical instruments.”

Wonwoo feels his eyebrows twitch despite himself, and the prickle of two pitying stares from Junhui and Jiyoon on his body. He resolutely ignores them both. Soonyoung keeps blabbering, unaware of everyone else’s exasperation, and Wonwoo hopes they keep it that way. Even if he does feel a little frustrated himself with Soonyoung’s lack of awareness.

“Shut up, you guys. This gift is really important to me, okay,” Junhui pouts, lips turned downward in a childish moue, and Soonyoung coos, pinching at a cheek. “It’s his twentieth birthday, you know. And he’s been out sick for a while, so. I thought it’d be nice.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, why didn’t you put as much thought into my birthday gift, huh? All I got from you were a lousy pair of socks and a ticket to watch the Avengers movie, which you knew I’d already seen,” Wonwoo complains, relaxing into his chair now that Junhui’s presence was explained to his satisfaction.

“Oh my god, will you let that go already!”

“Junnie treated me to galbi-tang,” Soonyoung crows.

“See! This is clear favoritism! I thought we were friends, Wen Junhui,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. “I thought I _meant_ something to you, but I guess that was just me.”

“Wow, one, let it the fuck go, asshole. Two, let it go. Three, _let it go._ ” Junhui ticks off his fingers as he counts, raising his eyebrows emphatically at each number. Wonwoo flaps his hand at him, and Junhui’s fingers flip down except for one. “Also, whatever, yes, okay, it’s favoritism. It’s not like I wanna suck _your_ dick or anything, no offense.”

“I should take offense anyway, but it’s not like I want you to be anywhere near my dick either, so,” Wonwoo retorts.

“Charming, Wonwoo-goon, real charming,” Jiyoon inserts, snorting. The three of them jump in their seats, Wonwoo and Junhui looking sheepishly at her.

Soonyoung squeaks, blooming red in his cheeks, and drops his face into his hands to escape his teacher’s eyes. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I forgot ssaem was right here, and you guys talked about dick-sucking right in front of her face,” he moans into his palms.

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t done my fair share,” Jiyoon says, mock-offended, and Soonyoung groans even louder, muttering, _That’s even more information that I never needed to know about you_ , faintly through his hands.

Junhui clears his throat. “Right, uh, well. So I wanted to do something extra special for Jihoon for his birthday, and I thought Jiyoon-nim would be able to help.”

“So, what’s the gift? Are you getting Jiyoon-nim to give Jihoon’s house a ritual exorcism? Are you gonna bless his family for good fortune?” Wonwoo asks, dry and amused. Soonyoung kicks at his leg with clenched teeth, and he dodges with a swift raise of his legs onto his chair.

“Well, it’s a little more special than that,” Junhui demurs, eyes twinkling. He hesitates on continuing, looks at Jiyoon for voiceless permission, and she nods reassuringly. Junhui smiles to himself, shy. “I’m going to play something for him.”

“Oh? Like a piano piece? Oh! Did you write him a song, Junnie? That’s so sweet!” Soonyoung snaps his fingers, drawn out of his sulk.

Junhui laughs a little, bringing a hand to hide it. “Uh, well. It’s not a piano piece. I thought about that at first, but it wasn’t special enough. It doesn’t have enough.”

_Doesn’t have enough what?_ But before Wonwoo can ask, Junhui is out of his seat and headed for one of the back storage rooms, walking towards the hallway with guided purpose and the steps of someone who’s been here far more than just a proprietary visit. Soonyoung and him hurry after him, Jiyoon following behind at a leisurely pace, and they look at each other in confusion.

Junhui takes them to one of Jiyoon’s music rooms, where a multitude of instruments stand, two grand pianos bracketing the corners and a golden harp bookending a rackful of zithers and strings. They walk around the timpanis and the many sized percussion instruments, Soonyoung almost tripping over a slanted bassoon that he swears slid down just as he was walking, and Junhui stops them by a case slotted between shelves of gayageums and ajaengs.

“Jiyoon-nim… you’re kind of a packrat,” Wonwoo says plainly, and lets himself be hit by Soonyoung’s offended hand. Jiyoon hums behind them, unaffected.

“I have a lot of time on my hands,” she mentions, offhanded. It’s an innocent enough statement, but somehow it still sends sudden chills down Wonwoo’s spine.

“What are all these gayageums doing here? Are you gonna give him one of these as your gift?” Soonyoung asks curiously, hand stretching out to touch before he remembers himself. Junhui bites his lip and opens the bottom set of doors of the case, revealing a long and wide zither.

“This is a guzheng,” Junhui says distantly, eyes fixated on the instrument, running a stray hand down its strings. “It’s _my_ guzheng.”

“Yours?”

“I didn’t know you played this!”

Junhui ignores both of their responses, continuing on as if they went unheard. “I gave this to Jiyoon-nim a long time ago for a wish. And now, she’s giving it back to me for another wish. Funny how things come round full-circle.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Wonwoo drawls. Junhui blinks and looks over his shoulder at them, as if suddenly realizing they were in the same room with him.

“Hm? Oh! No, uh, it’s just, you know,” Junhui waves his hand, searching for the right word, “uh, for dramatic effect.”

“Well, you certainly achieved it.”

“Anyway,” Soonyoung cuts in, giving Wonwoo a stern look, “so, you’re gonna play a song for Jihoonie on this thing? It looks really expensive; was it a family heirloom or something?”

Junhui grins oddly. “Yeah, it’s been with me for a very long time. You know, my, uh, great-great-grandfather used to say that these strings here,” he gestures at the pure white strings running around the wood, “came from a fox spirit’s tail hairs. There were stories about how playing this guzheng actually brought summoned the supernatural to the its listeners. That’s why it’s so valuable.”

“A fox spirit?” Wonwoo and Soonyoung exchange wary glances. “You mean like a nine-tailed gumiho? Aren’t they, uh, just legends?”

(“And really dangerous,” Wonwoo mutters under his breath.)

“Well, every legend has to come from some ounce of truth, right?” Junhui offers, wry smile on his lips. “And, it’s not a gumiho; we called ours _huli jing_ , and they’re—let’s just say they’re a lot more playful than their Korean relatives.”

Jiyoon walks over at this point, laying a flat hand over Junhui’s shoulder. “Your friend here had a really good wish, and it needed a really heavy price. So, he gave me this. In today’s market price, I think this instrument would probably go for, at least, a solid, hm, fifty-five billion won, if I’m not mistaken.”

Her words settle over them for a good minute before reactions occur.

“ _B-billion?_ Like, nine zeroes billion? That kind of billion?”

“You could literally buy out an entire apartment complex in Seoul with that kind of money….”

Junhui counts over his fingers, mouthing numbers to himself with wide doe-eyes.

Wonwoo is the first to break out of the numbers-induced daze, snapping an incredulous expression at Junhui. “You gave up a fifty-five billion won musical instrument for a fucking _wish_? What the fuck did you even wish for? Your own personal country? Seven mansions on each continent? _An extra three lives?_ ”

“Don’t be silly, Wonwoo-goon. A single life would be cost the entire GDP of five-plus countries at the very least,” Jiyoon chortles, her laugh airy and careless. It dies within the next breath, with a sudden flash of teeth. “And even then, I wouldn’t begin to consider it even remotely equivalent to a life.”

Junhui shakes his head and dismisses the words like Jiyoon hadn’t just dropped an metaphoric bomb on them all. “Well, it’s mine again, anyway, and I really do appreciate this, Jiyoon-nim. More than you could imagine.” He bows his head deeply, and Wonwoo and Soonyoung shuffle uncomfortably in place.

“You gave me the right price,” Jiyoon says simply.

 

Only after Junhui is gone with his huge zither and a promise to meet up with Soonyoung for lunch after class next week do the two of them remember to ask Jiyoon about the price he’d paid.

“Ssaem, what did Junhui give up?” Soonyoung asks quietly. He places down a tray of prepared fruit and a steaming cup of tea in front of a lounging Jiyoon, and waits for his answer. Wonwoo waits by the corner, propped up by the wall, but he is no less interested in the response.

Jiyoon doesn’t answer for a while, choosing instead to stare into her cup, like Soonyoung had placed in front of her a complex puzzle to solve instead. Just when Soonyoung opens his mouth to ask again, Jiyoon regards them both.

(In that instant, she looked all of her age, ageless as she was, and Wonwoo remembers it with a cold shiver even now, how tired and unflinching she sat, with a grim mouth and even grimmer eyes.)

“He gave me an ending.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you've made it to the end, i'm sorry, and i'm trying my best to finish the whole thing so you can actually kinda understand what i'm trying to write about lmfao
> 
> but let me know what you think so far!!! it's been a very long time since i've written fic seriously (not counting the cc fills i've been doing sparingly), and i feel very much like i've lost all handle on these boys. give a girl some reassurance or some advice hahaha!
> 
> i hope to see you in the next fic!


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